A Proper Proposal
by wickedfrominnocence
Summary: A drabble I wrote on my Bucky Barnes RP account about the time Bucky properly proposed to one Peggy Carter.


She's right– which is something he admits more often than he'd really like to say out loud to anyone. A mention of making the two of them a family officially doesn't, exactly, count as a proposal. Though, he does have to admit that it's a fond memory for him; bodies pressed together, skin on skin, her still slightly breathless after she'd collapsed on top of him, both finally sated. He'd mentioned being a family and, of course, Peggy had come right out and questioned him on if he was saying he wanted to marry her.

He'd half-thought about forcing her to look at him because, really, the expression on his face had said it all in that moment. Yes, he'd been attempting to say that he wanted to marry her. In fact, in his mind, it wasn't even an attempt at saying it, it was him blatantly telling her he wanted to. Still, it hadn't been a proper proposal and he did tell her he wanted a proper one.

Bucky knew she wouldn't want to be proposed to in some huge gesture, nor in an extremely public place, so he tended to carry the ring around with him during the nights where they got to go out and just be them without anyone around. Or, well, close to nobody around, usually, as it's difficult to be utterly alone in New York.

It's one of those nights now, though. They'd found themselves wandering through the park hand-in-hand and she'd begun going on about the time before the war; time he'd long-since lost. It's a nice gesture and he's appreciative of how she gives him insights into his own life that he can't remember on his own. Still, her voice is distant to him; unfocused. And he doesn't do it on purpose, it's just that his mind is whirling with all of the things he wants to say swirling around until he's certain that he's going to mash two sentences together and manage to say something horribly stupid or crude– or both– and ruin the whole damn thing.

Finally, he stops her mid-sentence with a quiet, "Peg."

She glances toward him, one brow arched up in a way he recognizes quickly– she wanted to know if he'd remembered something from the words she'd been speaking, but he shakes his head slowly in response. Her brow lowers and he sighs softly as he stops in his tracks and then turns to face her.

"It's not that, it's just–" he pauses, takes in a breath to try to calm his nerves– he had been a soldier, unafraid of death on a battlefield, yet here he was with his stomach practically in knots over a speech– and finally continues, "I love you, Peggy Carter." It's not how he'd intended to begin, but he feels it's a proper place to start.

"I love how you help me remember my past and our present. And how you look when you've just woken up and haven't had your morning coffee yet. And how you're so fearless when there's so much to fear in our line of work. And how I get to fall asleep next to you and I always know that you'll still be there in the morning. Or how you know just what to do when I wake up and don't know where I am at first. I… I don't know what I'd do without you in my life, is what I'm trying to say, and I don't want to find out either."

Slowly, he sinks down onto one knee, a hand pulling a small box from within his pocket as he looks up at her, hoping he hears a yes slip from her lips.

He opens the box to reveal the ring he'd been carrying with him for some time now, just waiting for the right moment. Metal fingers find her hand and grasp it gently as he holds up the box with the other hand, his own brows rising up now.

"Peggy Elizabeth Carter, will you marry me?"

In her mind, it's a stupid question and she should swat him for even having to ask it, but she's too caught up in the moment to do so. Plus, how could she do such a thing to him when he's offering her a proper proposal just like he'd said he would at some point?

"Yes."

He lets out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding and a smile takes over his features, crinkling the corners of his eyes. It takes him a moment to realize that now is the time he's suppose to take the ring out and slip it on. Once he has it on her finger, she's grabbing hold of his arms and pulling him up.

"Get up here and let me kiss you now or I might just have to take back that answer, Barnes."

A chuckle escapes him then and he rises up easily, his arms looping around her middle so he can lift her up as their lips meet.

"Mrs. Barnes," he breathes out against her lips, "has a nice ring to it. I still think Agent Carter is going to stick at headquarters, though." And he wouldn't ask her to change it, he knows how much weight her name carries after all she's worked for in her lifetime. But he entertains the idea of her having his last name still and it earns him a smile against his lips.

"I think I could make do with that." She's the one who pauses this time, but only so she can press a chaste kiss to his lips. "Oh, and," she pulls back, a smirk taking place of her smile as if she's just remembered something he'd forgotten, "I love you too."


End file.
